Misora's TellTale Heart
by Shuriken-chan
Summary: Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved Naomi Misora. She had never wronged me. I think it was her eye! Yes, it was this! And so, by degrees, very gradually, I resolved to kill the woman, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.


A/N~ Well, here's my version of Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Tell-Tale Heart.' It's in BB's point of view, and I had to use Naomi Misora because the story wasn't changed enough without the old man being replaced. The story takes place during the novel _Death Note: Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases. _Enjoy!

_**Misora's Tell-Tale Heart**_

TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad?

The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in the Shinigami Realm.

How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night.

Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved Naomi Misora. She had never wronged me. She had never given me insult. For her manga I had no desire. She was quite cunning about the murder case we followed together.

I think it was her eye! Yes, it was this! One of her eyes resembled that of a Death God - a pale red eye with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me my blood ran cold, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to take the life of the woman, and thus rid myself of the eye for ever.

Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded - with what caution - with what foresight, with what dissimulation, I went to work!

I was never kinder to Misora than during the whole week before I killed her. And every night about midnight I turned the latch of her door and opened it oh, so gently!

And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern all closed, closed so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly, very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the woman's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see her as she lay upon her bed.

Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this?

And then when my head was well in the room I undid the lantern cautiously - oh, so cautiously - cautiously (for the hinges creaked), I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the Death God eye.

And this I did for seven long nights, every night just at midnight, but I found the eye always closed, and so it was impossible to do the work, for it was not Misora who vexed me but her Evil Eye.

And every morning, when she entered the crime scene, I walked boldly over to her and spoke courageously to her, calling her by name in a hearty tone, and offering her some jam. So you see she would have been a very profound woman, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon her while she slept.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers, of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph.

To think that there I was opening the door little by little, and she not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts.

I fairly chuckled at the idea, and perhaps she heard me, for she moved on the bed suddenly as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back - but no. Her room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness (for the shutters were close fastened through fear of the murderer), and so I knew that she could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening , and Misora sprang up in the bed, crying out, "Who's there?"

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear her lie down. She was still sitting up in the bed, listening; just as I have done night after night hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

Presently, I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief - oh, no! It was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe.

I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me.

I say I knew it well. I knew what Misora felt, and pitied her although I chuckled at heart. I knew that she had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise when she had turned in the bed.

Her fears had been ever since growing upon her. She had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. She had been saying to herself, "It is nothing but the wind outside, it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or, "It is merely L which has dialed my phone that has made a single chirp."

Yes she has been trying to comfort herself with these suppositions ; but she had found all in vain. ALL IN VAIN, because Death in approaching her had stalked with his black shadow before him and enveloped the victim.

And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused her to feel, although she neither saw nor heard, to feel the presence of my head within the room.

When I had waited a long time very patiently without hearing her lie down, I resolved to open a little - a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it - you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily - until at length a single dim ray like the thread of the spider shot out from the crevice and fell upon the Death God eye.

It was open, wide, wide open, and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness - all a dull red with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones, but I could see nothing else of Misora's face or person, for I had directed the ray as if by instinct precisely upon the damned spot.

And now have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the senses? now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton.

I knew that sound well too. It was the beating of the woman's heart. It increased my fury as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye.

Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder, every instant. Misora's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! - do you mark me well?

I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror.

Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me - the sound would be heard by a neighbor!

Misora's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room.

She shrieked once - once only. In an instant I dragged her to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over her. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done.

But for many minutes the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The woman was dead.

I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, she was stone, stone dead. I placed my finger upon her wrist and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. She was stone dead. Her eye would trouble me no more.

If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence.

I took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings.

I then replaced the boards so cleverly so cunningly, that no human eye - not even hers - could have detected anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out - no stain of any kind - no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. A tub had caught it all. Ha!

When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o'clock - still dark as midnight.

As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, - for what had I now to fear?

There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the task force. A shriek had been heard by a neighbor during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the headquarters, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.

I smiled, - for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome.

The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. Misora, I mentioned, was absent in America for research on the Los Angeles murder case.

I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search - search well. I led them, at length, to her chamber. I showed them her manga volumes, secure, undisturbed.

In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

The officers were satisfied. My _manner _had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things.

But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears; but still they sat, and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct : I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definitiveness - until, at length, I found that the noise was _not_ within my ears.

No doubt I now grew _very_ pale; but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice.

Yet the sound increased - and what could I do? It was _a low, dull, quick sound - much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton_.

I gasped for breath, and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly, more vehemently but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased.

Why _would_ they not be gone?

I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men, but the noise steadily increased. O Kira! what _could _I do? I foamed - I raved - I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased.

It grew louder - louder - louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly , and smiled.

Was it possible they heard not? Almighty Kira! - no, no? They heard! - they suspected! - they _knew_! - they were making a mockery of my horror! - this I thought, and this I think.

But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! - and now - again - hark! louder! louder! louder! _LOUDER_! -

"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! - tear up the planks! - here, here! - it is the beating of her hideous heart!"

A/N~ :D This was fun to write, too!  
And to answer ColderDeath's question about 'The Raven,' I think that the raven was just an evil spirit... Or maybe the dark side of Lenore. But that wouldn't make sense...


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